Part 71

He rows slowly, moving the oar against water with the consistency of mud. To lift the oar for the next stroke is nearly as difficult as to row.

Then he cannot lift it at all!

Frowning Demo yanked at the oar. It gave slightly, then slipped back into the dank water. With an effort he used the side of the boat as a point of leverage, once more brought up the oar.

Covered with slime, strange plant growth, it broke the surface of the water. But there is something else, a red long and sinewy coil wrapped tightly around the oar. Grimacing, Demo tried to scrape the enwrapping red plant from its hold.

The red plant suddenly uncoiled, extended upward, and quickly enwrapped his forearm. Wide-eyed Demo attempted to pull free.

The hold on his arm tightened!

He was being pulled to the side of the boat!

Slowly the boat began to tip. He lost his footing, fell against the gunwale. The boat began to rock, and with each rock the putrid water of the river Styx splashed in.

As Demo pulled hard more and more of the red plant became exposed.

With a start Demo stared into enormous green eyes!

This was no plant!

Rather, a denizen of the weird waters! A denizen with an appetite for Demo!

A grin appeared on its face. Rather, a smirk. It licked its lips in anticipation.

With one arm held captive by the creature, Demo was unable to use his bow and arrows. Nevertheless, he was not completely helpless.

With his free hand he pulled an arrow from its pouch, stabbed at the entwining red tentacle. Surprised and in pain, the creature uncoiled its hold, slid back into the dark stream.

Demo sat down in the boat, sweat appearing on his forehead. For a moment he sat still. Then he noticed that the boat was drifting away from the shore.

With a start he once more manned his oars!

It was useless. The slow flowing waters of the Styx had now branched off. This was a different river entirely!

He recognized it! Fearfully his eyes opened wide!

The Meander! A river that went on forever. Purposeless, endless, going on forever!

He looked back.

No trace of the Styx was to be seen!

From the far shore he heard unearthly laughter!

An object he knew too well blended with the shadows there. The unseen companion!

Night fell, the air cooled. Birds flew low in pursuit of mosquito swarms. From the swampy shores growls and moans, strange shrieks and lonesome howls disturbed the darkness. The water lapped intermittently against the boat's side. Fish, or creatures adapted to the Meander, leaped above the water, splashed back to the surface. Nightbirds winged closed to the boat, dived toward Demo, then veered away.

Finally, lulled by the boat's rocking, he fell asleep.

The frigid night air woke him. The vast waste of the river was coated by a low-lying white fog. Above, a cold and desolate moon shone full on the quiet scene below. At times white fluffy clouds blocked its rays, then drifted on.

As morning approached a light breeze began to blow. The surface fog, like disturbed ghosts, scattered, drifted, faded away. False morning lit the sky, only to fade.